Male Domestic Blindness

I’ve always felt we live in a safe neighborhood.  People around here know who drives what car, when they go to work, and when they are on vacation…you get my drift.

However.

Apparently in this safe and secure neighborhood, a nefarious character is hiding.  He sneaks into our house and steals:  the TV remote, Captain’s wallet, Captain’s checkbook, Captain’s underwear.

Do you sense the theme here?

It is Captain’s claim when he can’t find something, “Someone must have stolen it.”

I get that wallets or checkbooks are worth stealing, but I ask you:  who wants someone else’s underwear?!

Rest assured neighbors, there is no thief lurking in Devil’s Kitchen waiting to abscond with your things. 

The problem is that Captain is suffering from Male Blindness Syndrome. 

Say, for whatever reason, Captain can’t lay his hands easily on his union suit, and it’s a blizzard outside.  Instead of going through the logical steps of checking the shelf where they are folded or the dryer, or the washer, or the hamper…he yells from the laundry room “Someone stole my underwear!”

Really?  This is your go-to conclusion?  Dude, it must be hell in your head.

It’s the same if he is looking for, let’s say, a jar of pickles in the fridge.  Not that someone stole our food, but “it’s not here.”  Yes it is, second shelf, left hand side.  “It’s not here.”

Turns out the problem is that the 1-inch high tub of sour cream was in front of the 8-inch high jar of pickles, and it was blocking his line of sight. 

The TV remote never actually gets stolen.  It grows legs and wanders away.  Like most American homes, we have our two TV chairs with an end table in between.  This is handy for my crochet paraphernalia, cups of coffee, or—hey—the TV remote when not in use!

Nope, Captain keeps a death grip on the TV remote when he is in his chair.  Then he falls asleep and the remote either slides down between the cushions (“someone stole it”) or it falls onto the floor and the batteries go flying to irretrievable places.  And before you ask, no, there is not a cover over the batteries.  Every remote we’ve ever had ends up with no battery cover because on one of those drops onto the floor…it breaks. 

I don’t know about you, but when I’m not using the remote, I leave it lay on that end table.  When I am done watching TV, I pick up the remote, turn off the TV, and put the remote back on the end table.  Call me crazy.

When Captain is done watching TV (or gets interrupted by a phone call, bathroom break, meal time), he takes the remote with him, leaves the TV on, and sets the remote down in random locations.  When next he wants to watch TV and can’t find the remote…you guessed it…”someone stole the remote.”

In the name of fair play, I will admit I am not without my own visual challenges.  Mine happens in the grocery store.  I’m in the soup aisle, and all I need is one stupid can of cream of mushroom soup.  I stand in front of the rows and rows and rows of cans…completely blind.  I do not see it.  Captain stands beside me and says, “It’s right there.”  Where?!  “Right there!”  WHERE?!  He finally grabs the can that was—get this—right in front of my face. 

Even Dipstick has this problem.  Our dogs, spoiled creatures that they are, get a biscuit every morning.  Dayzee gets to come in the house for hers, but Bear and Dipstick have to wait on the back deck.  Dayzee chows down her biscuit in the entryway while Captain goes on the deck to give the boys their biscuits. 

Bear, being the patriarch of this canine clan, just has to sit and look distinguished to get his biscuit.  Dipstick has to sit AND shake.  Friends, he’s 8 years old and just mastered this trick about six months ago.  Anyway, he does the sit-and-shake thing, and Captain offers the biscuit.  Gingerly, because Dipstick has a massive jaw with sharp teeth.

If for whatever reason, the biscuit doesn’t end up in Dipstick’s jaws and falls on the deck…he’s befuddled.  He can’t find it.  You can point it out to him, he looks right at it, and apparently can’t see it because he will look back at Captain like, what the fudge, dude?  Seriously, Captain has to pick the biscuit up and try again.

Male, female, or canine apparently doesn’t matter.  This visual incapacity crosses all demographic borders and can affect anyone, anywhere, anytime.  Beware, pals of mine, beware!!